I remember exactly where I was when I received the phone call to tell me of my mum’s dreaded disease.  An experience that many will unfortunately encounter. I couldn’t comprehend that in the 21st century nothing could be done to prolong her life. Other than her lungs, she was a fit and healthy person. Much of my psyche blocked out the information.

If I ignored it – it wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take long for the disease to take hold. Her skin colour paled, her nails curved and the lines on her face became etched and deep. Still she tried to be the person that she had been, playing with her grandchildren, walking, experiencing life. 

The breathing issues became harder and harder. She tried breathing techniques and positive thinking but nothing contained it. Her lungs struggled and soon she became confined to bed.

The sound of the oxygen tanks still haunts me.    

My mum was staying positive – but inside I was crumbling, I felt so cheated.

Watching her deteriorate was heart wrenching. It felt so cruel, so unnecessary, so unfair. Anger filled my every pore  – why her? She was the best mum, a wonderful human being and did not deserve to be suffering in this way.

Eventually, the best place for her to be was a hospice.   

They understood – they cared. They allowed me to spend the night with her.

I couldn’t sleep.

The sound of her struggling when the oxygen mask fell from her face was sickening. 

Slowly, her lungs could take no more. Dignity gone – the battle over.   

The last breathe taken. So unfair, so hard to watch her suffocate – then at peace. Lying there she looked like my mum again, calm and serene, no longer battling to take a breath.

Hopefully research will develop so that no one will have to suffer like she did. The work of the British Lung Foundation is invaluable.   

PEAKY CHARITIES